Google
by Simon920
Summary: A young lady sets her sights on Dick Grayson, with some background help from the Internet.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

**Google**

**Part One**

Enter Search.

_Richard Grayson._

The list of responses extended to over seven thousand entries. She clicked on the third one; "Richard John Grayson, ward and presumptive heir of Bruce Wayne, eighth richest man in the world, according to Forbes magazine…" There he was, pages and pages about him and who would have ever thought that he'd have that much stuff about him available to the entire world when he was still like seventeen years old. Go figure.

Well, he had serious potential.

She kept the same name in the search box and clicked on 'images'. This time almost two hundred pictures came up on several pages. Everything from posed formal portraits with Bruce Wayne at some high brow society functions to candids of him eating at some sidewalk café, alone with a newspaper and a glass of soda to one shot of him as part of his school's gymnastics team during some meet.

He was beautiful.

He was perfect.

She loved him.

There had been a time when she'd really thought that the middle Hanson brother, Taylor, would be the guy for her, but then he gotten married when he was like eighteen or something so, well, screw that. After that she'd really, really liked Johnny Depp, even if he was old but he was practically married and had some kids so screw him, too. From there she'd moved on to Christian Bale after she'd seen him in Little Women and, while he was still pretty cute and had even looked hunky in those stupid Batman movies. Then she found out that he was married and had this really, really bad temper so she just wrote him off. Of course he was still pretty handsome but so were a lot of guys, so while she still liked him, she didn't _like_ him.

Besides, those guys weren't _real. _Nobody really knew Johnny Depp or the Hanson's; they only existed on movie screens and in magazines.

But then one day she was thumbing through People at the hairdresser's while she was waiting for Annaclaire to get a trim and there he was—really cute, and really rich. He was even the right age and he was single—they said that he didn't even have a girlfriend so that meant that she had a real chance with him. _And_ Bruce Wayne (and Dick Grayson) lived like less than ten miles from her house. Absolutely perfect! He was like a real person, the kind you could maybe run into at McDonald's (like Richard Grayson would stoop so low—not) or at Brixton Country Club, if they were members.

And she knew her parents went to Wayne Manor once in a while for charity dinners and stuff—this was beyond perfect! She'd talk to her parents about that as soon as she got home; they were bound to have some real inside stuff.

"Marilee, c'mon, my mom will kill me if we're late again."

"You always say that."

"And I always mean it; move it, will you?"

Heaving a sigh Marilee picked up her back pack, cleared the screen on the computer monitor in the library study section and got up to go. Annaclaire was her best friend since fifth grade and they did everything together. "What time are we meeting the guys?"

"Right after practice; you want to get something to eat first? I had to make up that math quiz and didn't get lunch—I'm starving."

Marilee rolled her eyes, "Like I'm going to eat before practice so I can barf for two hours, no thanks." The two girls were both on the varsity cheerleading squad and had been since sophomore year, they were co-captains and trying to really build up the level of the stuff they were doing this year. There was lots more tumbling, harder pyramids and new uniforms that didn't look nearly so lame as the old ones.

"So what were you looking up in the library a few minutes ago?"

"History."

"History, my ass. You checking out 'Brix's front line?" ''Brix, formally known as Brixton, was the school they were playing Saturday for Homecoming and were expected to lose to. They _always_ lost to Brixton.

Marilee nodding, lying. It was a thing they did before every game; looking up pictures of the opposing team, picking out the cute ones and the real losers then seeing if they looked as good/bad when they got to check them out in person on the field. She wondered if Richard Grayson was on the football team, though there'd been no mention of it in any of the articles she'd read about him.

"And…?" Annaclaire prodded her. "Any of them decent?"

"Maybe, mostly they just look like the usual bunch of rich WASPS who spend all their time spending their parents' money and getting drunk every weekend; you know the kind."

"All white, all rich, all snobs; gag me. Whatever…c'mon, let's get practice started, I want to work on the basket tosses."

***

After practice they'd met up with their respective boyfriends, a couple of varsity first stringers named Adam and Brian the two girls had been dating since about eighth grade. If things worked out the way they used to fantasize about back in Junior High, they'd get married as soon as they either finished college or got reasonably paying jobs, buy houses on the same street and raise their kids in the same town they'd all grown up in. Marilee didn't tell any of the others that the longer they all talked about it, the more she knew that was what she didn't want, at least not any more. Adam was a really good guy but he was boring, and had less ambition that an old housecat. She'd probably dump him as soon as the prom was over.

Marilee wanted more than that; she wanted to travel, meet some of the famous, fancy, accomplished people she read about in the magazines and she wanted to live in a house with a big in-ground pool and a cleaning lady twice a week. And she wanted someone better than Adam to share it with.

"So we'll meet up after the game, okay? 'Everyone's going over to Stewart's for burgers like always. Marilee? 'You listening?"

"Of course—we'll pick you guys up outside the locker room, okay?" She took exactly three fries off Adam's plate and no more; cheerleaders didn't eat stuff like that, not if they wanted to be a flyer in the pyramids, they didn't. She sipped her diet coke. The four of them always sat in the same booth, always ordered the same things and in the off season always double-dated to a movie after a pizza—pepperoni with extra cheese. Every week. Marilee was starting to think she was the only one who was starting to have a problem with being in a rut at the age of seventeen.

Finally, a couple hours later, home and after dinner, she was up in her room finishing work on the French verbs she had a test on in the morning. After half an hour, bored and knowing them all by heart, she googled Richard Grayson again, finding out more about him than she had that afternoon in the library.

He was an orphan, used to be a really top grade circus performer until his parents were murdered in front of him when he was just short of his ninth birthday—God, how horrible! Bruce Wayne was in the stands, saw it happen, took him in, was now his legal guardian and he'd been living the high life in Brixton ever since.

From all the accounts she read (and she read a lot today), he was smart, a good student and there was no record of him ever being in any kind of trouble. There weren't any mentions of any girlfriends or any friends at all, for that matter. It was pretty much assumed that he'd end up either working for Wayne Enterprises or having so much money he could spend all his time painting his toenails different colors every hour.

God, he was handsome.

And all the articles ended by saying that there was an official news blackout on him from Wayne Enterprises to maintain the privacy of a minor. Well, okay, that seemed reasonable. Like who, other than maybe Lindsay Lohan or Zac Efron or some jerks like that would want to become public property? Jesus, that would totally suck. And that meant that everything she'd just read was probably, maybe not true, exaggerated or flat out lies. Great.

But he was still a beauty, no matter what else was real about him.

Next she googled Brixton Academy's sports teams. No mention of Richard Grayson in any football, baseball, basketball, soccer or lacrosse articles she could find but there was that one mention of him competing for their gymnastics team a year or so ago. It said that he was an alternate filling in for some injured team member in a dual meet and won two of the six events, floor and high bar but fell in the parallels and the pommel horse so finished way down in the individual standings, despite two first places.

Okay, so he might, _maybe_ be at the game tomorrow but he wouldn't be suited up or on the field; she'd just have to look in the stands and hope she got lucky.

***

The next afternoon Marilee and Annaclaire were on the visitor sidelines at Brixton's football field watching Ridge's team go down to a twenty-seven to fourteen defeat. Damn. So they had a crummy team and usually lost, it still sucked and that meant that Adam would be in a crappy mood the entire rest of the weekend. Again. Seriously, he was getting on her last nerve lately.

Walking to the team bus and surrounded by the other cheerleaders, her shoulder was bumped by someone going faster than she was. "Sorry."

"That's okay." She gave the guy a half-second glance then stopped dead, "Ohmigod, it's you!"

Dark, built and gorgeous and glancing at her with surprise and confusion. "Excuse me?"

"I mean—it's—I mean, um—are you—I mean—I guess that—um, you're Richard Grayson, right?" She felt like an idiot and could feel herself blush. Annaclaire was staring at her like she'd lost her mind, the three of them making a knot of clog in the stream of people leaving the game.

"Do I know you?"

Oh God, this was a nightmare. Maybe she could fall through the sidewalk or he could develop amnesia and forget this happened. "Um, no—I mean we've never really met or anything but I've seen your picture…in the papers and stuff—you know…" He was just looking at her. "I'm Marilee."

His expression became a little wary as if he'd been around this block before but he looked at her kindly, holding out his hand to shake. "And I'm Dick; now we've met."

They were being carried by the crowd; Annaclaire lost in the sea of people. "I'm usually not like this; I mean I _never_ do this, but would you like to get a soda or something?" He didn't answer immediately, just looked like he was sizing her up. He also looked a little surprised, but what the hell. "I mean if you're busy I understand or think I'm weird or something…"

They were by the team buses, the Ridge players, band and cheerleaders loading on and talking about the loss or later plans. "Don't you have to get back on the bus with your team?"

Right, of course, she was in her cheerleader uniform—obvious much? "It's okay. I mean, yeah I'm supposed to go back with them but I can call someone to pick me up if that's okay." Please say yes, please say yes.

Adam would kill her. The rest of the cheer squad was staring at her through the windows, not believing what they were seeing. Marilee and Adam were like carved in stone since like sixth grade and now she was picking up some richie pretty-boy from _Brixton_?

Dick gave her a small smile, like he'd decided to take a shot with her. "Or I could maybe give you a ride if you're okay driving with someone you've just met. I mean, if that won't get you into any trouble or anything like that. Don't they do a head count?"

"My friends will cover for me."

He laughed then nodded, gesturing towards another section of the parking lot. "Okay, then…"

She nodded, grinning and happy; he was gorgeous and he was nice and he was willing to get to know her a little over a coke or something.

"Marilee, you coming?" A cheerleader leaned out of a bus window, annoyed.

"I've got another ride, Anna—I'll call you later, okay?"

Marilee saw Annaclaire frowning and clearly not approving her doublecrossing Adam with this rich stranger kid, "I'm _calling_ you later, count on it." Her look made her feelings plain and Marilee knew she'd be grilled when she got home and would have some major explaining to do if she wanted to still have a boyfriend by Monday…okay, or at least still have Adam as a boyfriend, anyway.

"'You sure this all right? 'No one will be upset?" Marilee shook her head as she and the Grayson guy turned towards another part of the parking lot, walking till they got to a new racing green Porsche Boxter, mint and fabulous. "Do you mind if I leave the top down or would you rather it was up?"

Oh jeez… he was even _considerate_. "You decide, Richard; it's such a nice day, though…"

"Okay, c'mon." They pulled out and went a few slow blocks towards town in the game traffic. He turned down a quiet side street and drove a mile or so before stopping at a small mom and pop coffee place that was a little out of the way and not too busy. Finally seated and with iced tea for him and the diet coke for her in front of them they slowly started talking, breaking the ice a little. "So how did you know my name? I mean, we've never met, so how did you recognize me? And most people call me Dick, not Richard."

She blushed to her roots and too a sip of soda to hide her embarrassment. "I saw your picture in People; it said you lived around here somewhere and so I googled you." He didn't look really angry, thank God, just a little amused. "None of the hits said anything about you having a girlfriend—or a boyfriend; there wasn't much at all about you since...I mean…since …"

"Since I moved here when I was eight?" Dick helped her out; this was always more awkward for other people than it was for him. He'd had years to adjust to his parent's deaths; other people never knew what to say.

"Uh-huh...I guess I wasn't all that surprised you showed up at the game today." There was a pause which became awkward. "Are you mad?"

He shrugged and shook his head; it wasn't like this was the first time it had ever happened to him and while he knew it had a whole lot more to do with Bruce's bank account than anything else, this girl intrigued him for some reason. "You don't look too dangerous." He knew plenty about stalking and gold-diggers but he didn't have much else on this afternoon and she's appealed to his ego enough to pique his interest. It wasn't like he had any plans to elope.

She seemed relieved until she looked up from her drink and saw him watching her. "So what did you find out about me?" This had a harder edge to it and she realized that she'd probably gone too far, that he might think she was a crazy or something like that.

"Not that much; I mean, okay I found out that you used to be a circus performer when you were little and I read about your parents—I'm _really_ sorry about them—you know." He nodded like he'd heard this before, and he had.

"And what else? You obviously know my age and where I go to school. I assume you know all about Bruce and what he does, right?"

"There were a lot of things about him, but he doesn't seem to, I don't know, he doesn't really seem to do much. I mean—shoot, no offense or anything but mostly what's written about him are all the women he goes out with and how rich he is."

Dick was losing interest; she was just another teenager with hopes of striking it rich and not as interesting as she first seemed. "Yeah, well women seem to like him, I guess." A lot of women tried to get to Bruce's money through him; it wouldn't work.

Marilee went into a mental panic as she read his expression. Jeez, she didn't want him to think that she was just some idiot fan-girl or something. She could practically see his eyes glazing over. "But I'm not like that; I mean I guess you probably think I checked you out because of Bruce—I mean Mr. Wayne—because of his money and stuff. But that article in People, the first one I read about you, you just seemed so really nice and like you're not a jerk like most of the guys I know are." She was blushing like crazy and starting to stammer but she plowed on. "And then I read more about you—and you do all kinds of things like helping orphans and whatever and I just thought that, you know…I just kind of thought that, um, that maybe we could sort of, maybe like be friends or something."

He was looking at her like she was completely brainless and was stifling a yawn. Oh, jeez, this wasn't the way she thought this would go, not even close.

"Well, yeah, that would be nice but I'm pretty busy, what with helping kittens up in trees and all so thanks, but…"

She stopped suddenly, stopped her simpering, dropped her fluffy cheerleader act and her flirting and just became a real person. Dick watched with sudden concealed interest; it was a lot like watching Bruce Wayne transform into Batman; the features and all remained the same, it was something internal like a complete attitude revision of personality; even her voice changed. "Look, I know you must think I'm an idiot or someone who's just trying to hook up with you because of money but—crap—I'm really screwing this up—I just liked you as soon as I started hearing about you and thought we could be friends. Honest, that's it. No hidden agenda, no strings, no tricking you into getting me pregnant or 'till death do we part' or any of that garbage; just get to know each other as friends." She ducked her head, as though unsure whether she should bother going on or not. "I mean, 'take a shot, anyway. You never know, right?"

This was a semi-interesting variation of the game, but it didn't wash. "Uh, Marilee, look; you seem like you're a nice person but I'm just…" Games weren't his thing, not when he dealt with so much artifice in his day to day life. "I'm sure you have plenty of friends."

She nodded; she'd blown it and she knew it. "It's okay, really." She paused and sniffed just the slightest bit. "I meant what I said before, I mean about liking you from the moment I first heard about you…I told my friends I saw you in magazines—and I did—but I've known about you for a long time. My parents go to Mr. Wayne's charity things all the time and they're on some boards together." She shrugged in resignation, knowing she's blown it. 'Nothing to lose. "Honest—a month ago they came home from that Animal rescue fund-raiser at Wayne Manor and were talking about meeting you; they were really impressed."

This was something Dick hadn't expected, he'd assumed she was just some teeny-bopper or skank looking to add a notch to her belt; this was out of the blue and something he could check, which she must realize. Though it was still entirely possible—even likely— that she _was_ a gold-digger, "Who are your parents?"

"Bob and Marykate Richards; we live over in Ridgefield now but we used to live in Brixton until dad was made CFO a year or so ago. When we were here I went to Saint Albert's Academy instead of Brixton because of that big drug scandal there a few years ago; my parents kind of freaked about that."

"Yeah, so did Bruce for a while until he sort of came to his senses and realized that drugs are everywhere." Dick vaguely remembered hearing the Richards names; he _might_ have even met them but wasn't completely sure. "So what else do you do besides cheerleading and googling strangers?" He smiled to take the sting out of his words and she relaxed slightly with the unexpected encouragement. He could let this play out a little while longer; he didn't have to be anywhere for another hour or so. Besides, he was semi-interested again. Well, curious, anyway.

***

Later, back in his room, he googled the Richards and came up with about fifty hits. It seemed that they were pretty much as Marilee described them; reasonably well off (though nowhere near Bruce's league), educated, civic minded and pillars of whatever community they happened to live in. As far as he could tell, they seemed like they were on the up and up. Wandering down to the kitchen while Alfred was basting the roast in the oven, he asked the old man if he might know anything about the couple.

"The Richards, you say? Well…I believe that they've been guests of the master on more than one occasion if I recall correctly. They were quite generous with their recent contribution for the new wing of the Wayne clinic, asking that their donation go specifically for the pediatric wing, if memory serves. You may have met them yourself; you were at that dinner, young man."

Dick smiled, lying as he smiled at Alfred. "You know I never pay attention to who's there. No one cares about me unless it's to get through to Bruce at those things." He found a bag of pretzels in a cabinet but put them back when he saw the look Alfred was giving him. "Do you think they're really generous or do you think they're just trying to get on Bruce's good side?"

Alfred seasoned the roast, adding more spices to the outside and different vegetables to cook around the meat, adding their own flavor. "I couldn't really say though they seem pleasant enough; why do you ask?"

"Their daughter came up to me at the game today, that's all. I was curious. Dinner in a couple of hours?"

"Dinner will be at the usual time."

Dick nodded, "Okay, I'll be in the gym for a while if you want me."

Alfred didn't give the exchange much thought other to think it a perfectly normal thing for a young man with Dick's credentials and looks to be the object of attention of a young lady. He didn't seem all that interested nor did he say anything about calling the girl in question to arrange another meeting. Of course, he was busy, but still—it was past due time for him to take a more active interest in the opposite sex beyond a few crushes and a couple cases of puppy love which never came to anything. It was later that evening, when Alfred went in to make himself a cup of tea that he saw the Master's personal phone book opened to the 'R's'.

***

"So did you meet the Grayson boy, sweetie?"

"What do you mean Mom?"

"Marilee—you know perfectly well what I'm talking about. For goodness sakes, you've been mooning about him for weeks now."

"I have not." God, how embarrassing.

Marykate Richards put the pile of clean towels on the shelf in her daughter's bathroom and came back out to the attached bedroom. "So, did you meet him?"

The girl smiled. "He's really nice."

"I told you he was. Last month over at Wayne Manor he couldn't have been more charming. Did you two hit it off, honey?"

"I think so; I mean, he asked for my number but that doesn't mean that he'll call or anything."

"I bet he does."

"He might not."

"Five dollars says he does."

"God, Mom--you're so embarrassing." Marilee and her mother both smiled as Marykate left to deliver more clean laundry to other bedrooms. She knew her daughter and she'd done her own homework on the Grayson boy after she'd spent a good twenty minutes chatting with him at that dinner. Handsome, of course, intelligent despite his background and currently the only known heir (even if he was just a ward) of Bruce Wayne. He would be a perfect match for Marilee, especially since he cleaned up so well. It was always possible that he was just being superficially polite because the event was in his own home and his 'father' was there, but he _did_ make a good presentation. Now the thing would be to make sure that the two of them were kept in touch with one another and that shouldn't be all that difficult; a birthday party here, a charity event there, throw in a football game and a school dance. Human nature and teenaged hormones should take care of things without much help.

Dick Grayson wasn't going to get away that easily, not if she had anything to say about it.

Three days later the expected call came through, Dick Grayson asked Marilee if she wanted to catch dinner and a movie that weekend.

Bob and Marykate raised a silent toast.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Google **

**Part Two**

Dick hesitated calling Marilee, not sure if he had the time to see her this week since he knew he was committed to working with the Titans. They'd agreed to help some kids renovate a park and ball field as a PR thing; after the amount of damage caused by their last go-around with Brother Blood they had some serious fence-mending to do if they wanted to get back in the public's good graces.

But, with any luck, Friday for a quick and easy dinner followed by a movie should be doable. He'd be home by midnight at the latest and could plead whatever he wanted to cover himself Saturday and Sunday. Besides, he needed some time to himself, even if Bruce didn't see any point in it. In fact he doubted that this thing with Marilee would really go anywhere; he was too busy, they'd both be leaving for college in a few months and there were too many things he couldn't talk about with her. Unless she had a secret life as Wonder Girl's cousin or was yet another survivor from Krypton, they probably didn't have nearly as much in common as she seemed to think they did. Somehow the size of Bruce's bank account wasn't going to be enough to make a match from heaven. It was an old story as far as he was concerned and one that would probably be repeated over and over again.

All right, maybe she wasn't just after his—or Bruce's money, but then what was the real story? She heard his name somewhere, not too hard to do since he lives in the area and it wasn't like Bruce lived under a social rock, and decided to arrange a hook-up.

The whole thing was a little too pat and his radar was pinging pretty loudly.

This did not, however, mean that he was against having some fun with the girl. Dick was, after all, human.

"Make sure that you're home before one; that's when we're giving backup for the GCPD at that drug bust."

"I'll be there, don't worry about it, Bruce."

"Make sure that you are."

"Of course, Master Dick. You know that you have permission to use one of the cars but may I ask you where you'll be taking it or when I might expect you and it's return? If the master needs your assistance by one, you'll require time to prepare yourself."

"I'm picking up Marilee in Ridgefield at six-thirty. We're having dinner somewhere then seeing a movie; I should be back by eleven or eleven-thirty."

"And whom, may I ask, is this 'Marilee'?"

"I told you about her; she's the Richard's daughter. 'Remember I asked you about them the other day?"

"The Richards who are occasional guests of the Master? The ones you asked me about the other day?"

"That's them. Is there something you're not telling me? C'mon, Alf—'fess up here."

Alfred regarded his charge. Well, he was a normal young man and had every right to be attracted to a young lady. No harm done—at least not yet. "Not at all, if fact since they tend to move in the same circles as the Master, you might find that you've finally found someone in the milieu with whom you have something in common after all."

"Yeah, well—you never know. Do you mind if I take the Boxter?"

"Not so long as you use adequate cautions whilst doing so."

"Uh, Bruce, you okay with this?"

He looked up from the Wall Street Journal. "Yes, fine, Richards, you said? Bob and Marykate; he's CFO of a medium to good sized investment firm the crowd over at Brixton Country Club are so high on. He seems benign."

"'He ever try to get you to invest with him?"

"'No more than in passing. I told him that I'm happy with the people I'm using and he let it drop."

"What about his wife? What's she like?"

"Marykate? She didn't make much impression; smart enough, average pretty, it looked to me like her dress was a knock-off of a Dior. They both struck me as basically harmless in a standard social climbing sort of way." The paper rustled as he turned a page. "'Just watch yourself, be careful."

"'You mean 'be careful' as in don't let them write down any bank accounts or 'be careful' as in don't knock up their daughter'?"

"Master Richard! There's no need for vulgarities."

"'Sorry, Alf. Don't worry, nothing's going to happen. It's just dinner and a movie."

***

The door was answered by a father looking man when Dick showed up to get his date, "Hello, I'm Dick Grayson; Marilee is expecting me."

"Bob Richards, pleased to meet you, come on in for a minute; Mari should be down in a minute." They shook hands, conventional social niceties in place as they walked into the living room. The house was what could only be described as a McMansion, reasonably tastefully decorated (with a blessed lack of gold gilt or cherubs) and with a comfortable, homey feel to it. The standard overdone pool and fake waterfall were visible through the windows and he could see the edge of a tennis court close-by. Unlike Bruce's five hundred and seventy-eight acres, this seemed to be squashed onto a single acre, at most. So, not much lawn to mow.

They went into a family room connected to the kitchen. The local news was on the TV and the chicken smelled like it was about done. "May I get you a soda or something, Dick?"

He leaned against the counter. "No, thanks, I'm good." He saw a throw pillow on the couch with 'Yale Law' on it. "You're a lawyer? Marilee said you were CFO."

"No, I majored in economics. Marykate's the lawyer in the family—Marilee's mother. 'You interested in the law, Dick?"

"Sort of, not enough to get a degree, but sure. I guess it's hard to avoid, right?—the legal system, I mean."

"'Seems like it sometimes." 'Probably because of his parent's murders and that big trial then the whole guardianship situation', thought Bob. "So where are you two kids planning on going tonight?"

"Dinner somewhere and then catch a movie—Marilee was going to choose."

Marykate walked into the room with Marilee who was casually, but nicely dressed. "Dick, it's nice to meet you again; we've been over to Bruce's for any number of dinners and things but you've usually managed to make yourself scarce for those things. I enjoyed talking with you at the last one—that cancer fundraiser a month or so ago."

"Bruce was happy you could make it." Dick gave a wan smile, trying to maintain polite without letting on that he had no memory of them or their conversation at all and not missing Marilee's parents exchanging a look. A clock on the mantle chimed a quarter to seven, thank God. "We'd better get going if we're going to eat and make the film." Bruce was right; they seemed harmless enough, in an ambitious sort of way.

A couple of minutes later after more of the usual admonitions to drive carefully and not be too late, the kids were finally in the car. Marilee looked out the windshield as they pulled onto the main road. "I'm sorry about that but you know how parents are; always on your case and over-protective." Dick nodded non-committedly. "Is Bruce, I mean Mr. Wayne, the same way?"

"In his way, I guess so. He's pretty much okay, though. Where would you like to eat?" He really didn't want to get into the whole 'what kind of parent is Bruce' conversation he had a feeling was coming. It always made hi uncomfortable.

"Anywhere is fine with me; you decide. I like just about everything."

"Japanese?" Dammit—he didn't care and she said she'd come up with something. He hoped she wasn't going to play the helpless, subservient female card again; it was annoying and clearly not the reality. Besides, she knew this area better than he did; he almost never had a reason to eat in Ridgefield.

"I love Japanese, perfect—have you tried that new place over by the bakery?"

No, he hadn't, but it didn't matter. Fifteen minutes later they were seated in a booth, orders given and waiting for their food as the waitress put their soda's in front of them with Dick wondering if she even liked Japanese food; it was hard to tell.

"So, how much of a set up was us meeting at the game?"

She gave him an innocent look. "What do you mean?" She sipped her diet soda, while looking at him, clearly worried. "God, you make it sound like I stalked you or something. Honestly, I just wanted to meet you. Are you mad?"

He smiled and shook his head; he was sort of flattered. Suspicious, but semi-flattered. The waitress showed up, taking their orders for shrimp tempura and chicken teriyaki then left, leaving them alone again. "So what did you find out?"

"Excuse me?"

"When you googled me—what else did you learn? I assume you were on the computer again after we met, right?" He didn't tell her that he'd done the same thing to her after he'd gotten home, had run a search on her and found out that she was on her school's honor roll, played varsity tennis in season in addition to being a cheerleader. No reason to completely tip his hand quite yet and it wasn't like he was about to walk into this cold. His Robin training would make that a long shot, even for a casual date and that realization sort of made him feel bad. This wasn't any big deal, just an evening out and here he was figuring the angles and wondering what Marilee's real agenda was. Lighten up, Grayson.

"Oh." She stopped again, seeming unsure about what to say and embarrassed.

He thought he knew what that was about, "Okay, I'll start. You found out that I used to be a trapeze flyer with my parents, they were killed in a fall that was arranged by organized crime in a shakedown attempt against the circus we worked for. You probably read about the trial, found out that was when Bruce took me in and that I've been with him since then—you also probably read the bullshit rumors about us; that about sum it up?"

Marilee nodded with a shy smile and filled in a few blanks. "I also found out that you're an honor student because the list is published in the local paper every marking period and that Mr. Wayne has issued a complete news blackout on you—even though things still get out. He refuses to let you be interviewed or photographed by the press if he can help it and the general assumption is that you'll end up running his company eventually." She looked to see if he was mad or anything. "But that picture of you coming out of the water in Tahiti last winter was pretty hot." She blushed at his expression and thought it was cute that he seemed embarrassed. "That about it?"

Dick gave her an enigmatic smile. "That's it; me in a nutshell." The waitress brought their food, causing another brief pause in the conversation. They both picked up their chopsticks; the food looked and smelled good. "And I had nothing to do with that picture. Some other tourist took it and then sold it when some pap offered money for it. Bruce was really pissed when he found out."

"'No more trips to Tahiti?"

"Not to that hotel, anyway."

They got through the meal without any major embarrassments or faux pas then headed out to the movie—the conversation easy and relaxed; the only thing he really wondered about was whether she had designs on him because of Bruce's money (always a good bet), because she liked his looks. Maybe she liked the car. Perhaps her parents were orchestrating this for whatever reason of society connections or possible jobs. There was a chance that she actually liked him and wanted to really get to know him though he considered this a long shot at best.

Well, whatever. She was pretty, seemed to have a decent enough brain and was good company. So far the evening was painless and it wasn't like he was about to fall for anything. 'Might as well take it as it came and not sweat the small stuff.

The movie, Kate Hudson's latest romantic comedy, was forgettable but they held hands through most of it and all the way out to the parking lot. It was still only ten and so, rather than driving her straight home, Dick turned right at the intersection and drove over to Gotham Conservatory. To Marilee's surprise, the lights were on inside, making the Victorian building glow like a diamond against the black of the harbour, large palm trees visible inside arching up close to the ceiling.

"Dick?"

"They're setting up the flower show, it's set to open tomorrow. I thought you might like a private tour—unless you'd rather go home?"

"But—how did you…?"

He shrugged, unwilling to come out and tell her that Bruce was the major patron of the place in memory of his mother. Evidently Martha Wayne loved gardening, flowers and brought him here a lot when he was a little kid.

They went in, a few of the workers greeting Dick as they strolled the greenhouses, surrounded by countless orchids, roses, arrangements, topiaries and garden displays. The kids stayed out of the worker's way and found an out of the way bench by a finished small waterfall and koi pond set-up. Finding a discarded stargazer lily on the ground, he presented it to Marilee with a small flourish, making her blush.

"So, are you busy this weekend?"

"I have to be at the game on Saturday to cheer—would you like to come?"

"If you'd like to do something after, sure."

"Dick? How come you don't have a girlfriend?" He gave her a look like 'why _would_ he have a girlfriend?'

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, you're really good looking—don't look like that, you know you are. You're a really sweet guy and you're rich—or Bruce is, anyway. You should have girls falling all over you."

He shrugged. "I have friends who are girls, good friends but I guess nothing ever really clicked or they already were going with someone. It's not that big a deal. Besides, I don't want to see someone just because I don't have anything better to do. I'd like to be with someone I actually want to spend time with."

She nodded, their fingers laced together and the lush smell of the loam and heavy scents of the flowers around them. It was a quiet moment, broken when she quietly laughed. "Sure, but don't you ever get, you know…don't you ever get horny?"

"Well, we haven't had dessert and I'm easy…"

"That's not what I hear."

He glanced at his watch and made motions to move. "It's after eleven."

"'You have a curfew?" Bruce _Wayne_, the playboy of the Western world, held him to a curfew? No wonder Dick didn't have a girlfriend if he was on this short a leash.

"'Not really, but I have a lot of stuff to do tomorrow, and if I'm going to get to your game then I have to get some sleep." And if Robin were late for backing up Batman, then Dick wouldn't be going on any dates in the foreseeable future.

Back at the Richard's house, Dick walked Marilee to the door after a few minutes of a healthy goodnight kissing session then walked her to the door, Alfred's manners firmly in place.

"I'll see you at the game."

Inside, the Boxter's motor fading down the street, Marilee's mother looked in her daughter's room to check how the evening went. "Well? 'Nice time?"

"Um-hmm. He's nice, I like him."

"Do you think you'll see him again?"

"He's coming to the game tomorrow then we're going to do something after."

"Then you need some sleep, sweetie. 'Night."

"'G'night, mom."

In the master bedroom Marykate looked at her husband, smiled and raised one eyebrow. So far, so good.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Google**

**Part Three**

Dick googled the Richards' again, pulling up some stories and articles about Bob Richards, his latest promotion, all very upright and standard. The blurbs he could find about Marykate were a little more interesting, but only slightly. He was a glorified accountant, from what Dick could tell and she was your generic corporate legal hack, the kind Bruce had an entire department of working for him. They were both competent enough but neither would be likely to rise much further and would probably spend the rest of their professional careers working for someone else and a bi-weekly paycheck.

They gave enough to various high profile charities to garner a fair amount of invitations to the black tie things Bruce and his crowd frequented, though they likely bought individual seats and not entire tables. They might be social climbers, but it wasn't like they were the only ones and it wasn't a crime.

They seemed harmless enough. He called Marilee around ten the next morning. "Hi, Marilee? I may be a little late to the game but I'll try to make it by half time, okay?"

"That's okay—something up?"

"Nothing major, Bruce just has some things he wants me to finish before I leave and they're going to take a few hours but I'll see you later, all right?"

"Fine; do you have any idea what you may like to do after?"

"Uh…"

"Because if you don't I usually go out with some friends but if you'd rather not, I understand."

"Whatever you want is all right with me. I'll see you later."

"'Later."

The chore Bruce had for him were mostly forensics involving evidence for a murder they were trying to solve. A body was found by the harbour and Dick was trying to match DNA with some missing persons. Basically, it was just another day at the office for him but it had to be done.

***

"Honey, are you going to be home for dinner?"

"I don't think so, Dick is meeting me at the game and we're going out. I'll call you."

"Are you two becoming an item?"

"Mom, god—we've only been out like two times; lighten up."

Marilee huffed her way out of the house when Annaclaire honked out front, both girls already in the cheering uniforms and on their way to get three more girls. Marykate nodded to her self and smiled just slightly. So far, so good.

***

Dick showed up midway through the fourth quarter, Marilee picking him out of the crowd almost immediately and jogged over to him. He greeted her with a polite, public friendly kiss that didn't go unnoticed by the other cheerleaders or a few of the players over on the bench. Most of them had no idea who the new guy was, but he was good-looking and had that veneer of money and wealth they all recognized for what it was; Marilee had landed a catch, or was trying to, anyway. Or he was using her, but then that could be a two-way street and likely was. Whatever. It probably wouldn't last.

Fifteen minutes later the game ended with Ridge taking another drubbing, losing twenty-four to seven, making their record for the season one win to six losses. So far. Not expecting much, the crowd wasn't disappointed and left the stadium in good spirits with Dick and Marilee heading for the Boxter, parked several blocks away, since Dick had gotten there so late.

"So, you want to go to that after thing you mentioned?" He hadn't even started the engine, waiting to find out what, if anything, was the plan.

She gave him a semi-flirtatious sideways look. "Not really, unless you wanted to."

"Not really, so where to? And—Marilee? Really, cut the act, all right? I don't want to hurt your feelings or anything, but really, I know you're smart, I know you have opinions and I believe that you know what you want to do. The helpless female thing gets old fast."

She looked a little stunned and Dick felt badly for not being ore tactful but, cripes, he wasn't into playing games and if this had any chance at all, she might as well know it now. Then she looked like she was about to cry, even though her face was turned away from him.

"I, god, I'm sorry, but I like you—I like you when you're being yourself, all right?" Dammit, now he'd done it, Alfred would tear a strip off of him for making a girl cry and he'd be right to do so. He could have found a better way to say it, or just kept his mouth shut.

She sniffed a little then seemed to straighten her shoulders both mentally and physically, took a couple of beats and turned to him, nodded, took a deep breath and another few beats and said, "You're right—it's a bad habit and I know I do that. I think…it's just so easy and it always worked so I—I know. I won't do it again and if I do, tell me, okay?"

"You're okay? I shouldn't have…"

"Yes, you should. You're right." She reached over and lightly took his hand, hoping he wouldn't pull away. He didn't and gently held her fingers while she finished composing herself. "Do you still want to go out?" Her voice was tentative, seeming to assume that he'd say no but he smiled and nodded, relieved that she wasn't as angry or hurt as he feared.

"Home first so I can change and then we'll see, okay? I was thinking maybe we could stop and get some take out or sandwiches or something. I can't eat before a game and I'm starving—do you mind? It's a nice day, 'seems stupid to sit inside somewhere."

"That sounds good. I didn't have time to eat either and we can wipe the slate and relax, if that's all right with you."

She smiled a real smile, nodded and genuinely glad that he'd said something instead of just dumping her, mush as she didn't want to hear it. She'd been playing the stereotypical cheerleader for so long; vapid, spoiled, a bit of a bitch who always, always got her way—and been so good at it—that it was a surprisingly nice change to drop the act.

Dick chatted in the kitchen while Marilee went up to her room, her mother giving him a glass of water and making semi-small talk. "So, Dick, Bob and I were planning on going over to your place next week for that Cancer fundraiser. 'Any chance we can look forward to seeing you there?"

"Probably. I know Bruce expects me to be there. He really wants me to get into the mindset of doing that kind of thing; you know, raising money for good causes and everything that goes with it."

She gave him what seemed like a sympathetic smile. "Those things must seem pretty deadly to you, you poor thing. I know Marilee would rather wash her hair or cram for a test than get dressed up for a charity auction, even if it is a good cause."

"They're okay, 'part of the job. Bruce feels really strongly about giving back to the community. He's trying to ingrain it in me, make it a habit and, if it's done right, it can make a difference."

"Yes, of course, he's right. Goodness, the Wayne family has had a hand in practically every good works project in the area; Gotham is lucky to have him."

Dick had heard this before and just nodded. Yes, Gotham was lucky; Gotham had no idea how lucky it was to have Bruce around and everything he brought to the area both during the day and after dark. Dick had looked up the stats a couple of years ago: since Batman made his first appearance in the city crime was down over thirty percent and when Dick—Robin—joined it went down another ten percent. No argument, Gotham was lucky to have Bruce around.

Half an hour later the two kids were sitting on the bank of the Gotham River in a quiet corner of the park, the city across the water and their lunch spread out beside them. "The others were asking about you today."

Dick swallowed, "The others?"

"The other cheerleaders, a couple of the players. They were wondering who you are."

"And who am I?"

"I told them your name and where you live and that we've been seeing each other. I think they're all jealous."

"Because we're seeing each other?"

She smiled at him, not quite laughing, "Because they all think that you're gorgeous and want to jump you bones."

"Sure they do."

"Seriously."

"Right, Marilee, seriously." Alfred and Bruce had tried, with obvious success, to drill into Dick that while his looks may be considered 'all right' he was, under no circumstances, to think of himself as anything more than that. It was a concerted effort to downplay his external and focus on his abilities beyond how he filled out his clothes or photographed. They had possibly done too good a job. He knew he didn't look like a peeled onion, but never would think of himself as anything beyond 'okay' as long as he lived.

"Seriously, even my mom was saying how cute you are."

He took another bit of his sub. "This is an effort to embarrass me, right?"

"You caught me, embarrass you then build you up so you're so grateful that you invite me to that big dance thing Bruce is having."

"The charity dinner next week? 'You want to _go_ to that? _Why_?"

She laughed, "Well, yeah, I love getting all dressed up—it's the whole fairy princess fantasy."

"Making me Prince Charming?"

She leaned in and kissed him, a real kiss that lasted a long thirty or so seconds. "I'm starting to think that you've been type-cast in the role."

He kissed her back for a couple minutes, "If you want to come with me, I think we can arrange that."

"Really? You're not just saying that because I'm getting you hot, are you?"

He smiled against her mouth, their arms around one another. "That's part of it."

"And the other part?" They were talking into one another's mouths.

"I'll have someone to talk to under forty."

She laughed happily. In the hour or two since he'd chastised her about pretending to be a simpering twit she'd dropped the mask, relaxed and was herself—the first time in her life she hadn't played a role with a boy and she liked how liberating it was. If he liked the real her, great and if he didn't, well—that was his problem but she'd had an epiphany and she was going to be herself and let the chips fall where they may. She pulled back an inch or two. "This is dress up time, right?"

"Dress to the nines and impress the peasants, that seems to be what most of the women try to do; spend more money on what they're wearing than they give to the cause du jour."

"Oh, you've met my mother's friends, have you?"

He laughed, nodding. "More times than I can count. Your mother said they're coming so just drive over with them; Bruce expects me to be there to greet people, when you get there you can help, help keep me focused instead of glazing over like I usually do."

"I'll keep you focused all right…" She launched herself at him again just as he leaned towards her—they met in the middle.

***

"Bob, did Marilee tell you that the Grayson boy invited her to Bruce's dinner next weekend? I'm taking her shopping tomorrow for a new dress."

"Isn't she a little young for a formal thing like that? Won't she be bored—I wouldn't want her to make a bad impression."

"She said he wants her there so he won't be bored. It sounds like they'll be spending the entire evening together, or most of it, anyway. She'll be able to meet Bruce as Dick's date so he'll pay attention t her, she may even get to sit at his table!"

Bob regarded his wife. "So, it seems that you have her on track."

"So far, so good. I'll have a talk with her, make sure she knows how to behave and then we just sit back and watch."

"Honestly, don't you think she's a little too young for all of this?'

Marykate gave her husband a patronizing look. "She's getting her foot in the door before anyone else has a chance, Bob. You've said it yourself; you never forget your first love, this is perfect."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Google**

**Part Four**

Marykate and Marilee were in Saks, having already rejected everything in Neiman's and Bergdorf's. A couple came close, but they just weren't quite right; the color was off or the fabric didn't have the right drape or the last one she's tried on, the Wedgwood blue halter was lovely but the bust was all wrong and the back gathers were impossible. The dress had to be perfect, had to show her off to the best possible advantage, turn heads and make jaws drop. It must.

Maybe, hopefully they would finally find something suitable here. The Gala over at Wayne Manor was on Saturday at six-thirty and this was Wednesday afternoon. They had to settle on something maybe have it fitted, get shoes, make sure that Marilee had the right jewelry, get her hair and makeup done (she'd have to skip the football game that day to have time)…but first they needed a dress. It all hung on that.

The saleslady, the department manager was starting to get a little snippy, too—thinking that they were just lookers and weren't going to buy anything, that they were wasting her time. On the other hand, Marykate's temper was threatening to get short if the bitch didn't come up with something decent, perfect and in Marilee's size in the next few minutes.

The woman finally came out of the back room holding a full-length garment bag high enough that it was off the floor. 'Vera Wang' was embossed on the front in gold. Hanging it on a rack she started to unzip the bag, "This just came in this morning, it's an exclusive—we have the only one in the city and I think it look would absolutely lovely on the young lady." She pulled the dress out of the bag and spread it over a chair, the colored silk flowing like the proverbial cloud as it settled.

Neither of the Richard's women said anything, but the glance they exchanged was telling. The saleswoman knew she'd struck gold this time. Marilee went into the large dressing room with the woman, emerging five minutes later.

It fit Marilee perfectly, not a single adjustment would have to be made, they could take it with them today.

Strapless with a modified sweetheart neckline, modest enough but not even remotely matronly, the empire waist floated to a full A-line, the smooth skirt heavily embroidered with lace flowers up to the knees in the exact color of the dress, a warm, rich shade of clotted cream. The entire dress was then sheathed in a gossamer single layer of the finest silk tulle in the same tone as the under skirt and bodice. It was clearly designed as a wedding dress but without a veil or the usual pearls it would serve it's purpose at the Manor, looking like a debutante gown. It was feminine, refined, sophisticated with just enough hint of sex to make sure Marilee kept attention focused on her without being obvious. And it was close enough to white to suggest innocence; something which wouldn't be lost in the society crowd that would surround her all evening—unless she managed to slip away with the Grayson boy.

She could wear Marykate's anniversary necklace, the five-carat diamond hanging from a diamond chain and fitting closely to her throat. The fifteen-carat tennis bracelet would work on one wrist. Simple, elegant. Her hair would be arranged up, showing off her long neck, they'd find matching shoes downstairs.

This was it. This was the dress.

"Mom?"

"Dear?"

No one would think she was a high school senior. No one would think she was just some girl riding her parent's coattails. She looked like _someone_.

"It's a _wedding_ dress."

The answer was serene and considered. "No one has to know what it was designed for. It's a lovely dress and it looks like it was made for you, that's what matters."

"Mom, it's ten thousand dollars."

"Do you like it, sweetheart?"

"Of course I love it, it's beautiful, but Mom, Dad will have a heart attack…"

She handed the saleswoman her credit card. "We'll take it, thank you."

"Now, you'll need a long line strapless bra, we have jewelry and we'll get shoes—does Vera make them to match?"

The saleswoman smiled as she mentally calculated her commission, "Yes, and our shoe department carries them, Mrs. Richards. Just ask—I mean I'll go down with you and we'll have the dress with us so there won't be any problem matching the color."

"Good."

***

Bob Richards pulled the Mercedes up to the main door of Wayne Manor, thousands of tiny lights were strung through the trees, the musicians were playing and people were slowly walking up the stone stairs as though arriving at Buckingham Palace. Handing the keys to the parking attendant, Bob escorted Marykate and Marilee inside.

Bruce and the charity's directors were standing there, welcoming the attendees, knowing most by name and faking it with the rest. He gave the Richard's a subtle but thorough once over as he leaned in to kissed Marykate's cheek and shake Bob's hand. "I was so pleased when I heard you could make it tonight—it always a treat for me when everyone can come, far too many old fogies at these things! Marykate, that's one of Karl's things from last month's show, isn't it? I swear, only you could do it justice, and am I wrong or is that a Vera—Marilee, isn't it? I know Dick is looking for you—just waiting for you to get here; I think I saw him talking with someone out in the garden a few minutes ago. Alfred? Alfred, please see to it that Miss Richards finds Dick, will you? That's a good fellow. Bob, good to see you again, call me for golf next week, will you? It's a date."

They were passed along to the charity people, the research doctor being honored and his wife then they were on their own.

Wayne was vapid as usual, but the man was richer than Midas and he knew how to throw a party and there was no denying it.

It was a beautiful night, clear and warm so the guests could wander through the grounds close to the house. Tables were set up by the main pool and waiters circulated with appetizers and champagne.

"Master Richard? I believe you were asking to be informed when Miss Richards arrived."

Dick was making small talk with a couple of the better preserved matrons who elbowed one another when the 'pretty little darling' lowered her eyes as they were introduced. Clearly there would be gossip about them at the tearooms in town tomorrow.

Smiling and taking her arm, he led her down to the pool, candles floating and masses of flowers everywhere. The waiters made a pass by them, offering champagne and wine, but Marilee and Dick both opted for simple soda, knowing there were far too many eyes on them and this was neither the time nor the place for anything the had even the smallest hint of impropriety.

"You look beautiful, better than anyone else here." He kissed her cheek, hoping that they were far enough away from the growing crowd to have been unobserved.

"You look pretty good, yourself." He was in that new tux Alfred had insisted be ordered from Sexton's over on Beauchamp when they were all there during Christmas break. It was classic but had that certain flair and fit that could only be had when produced by someone who could count their experience in bespoke tailoring in decades. Even Dick had to admit that it looked pretty good. "So, is this your first one of these things?"

She tried for cool. "What makes you ask?" In fact she was feeling a little like a toddler playing with the grownups and had no real idea what she was supposed to do or say and to whom she was supposed to say it.

"I've never seen you at one before."

She reluctantly nodded. "Yeah, I mean yes, I'm busted. Does it show?" And was he hiding her out side like this because he was afraid that she'd trip or drop something down her cleavage or something?

He smiled at her, shook his head and took her hand. "You're doing great and that really is a pretty dress—you look great; you've got the matrons asking who you are."

"Bull, they're asking who _you're_ with is more like it. But this is starting out fun, my mom insisted I get this (she touched the fabric of her skirt) and the shoes (she stuck out a foot) and lent me her best jewelry. I feel like I'm making my debut or something." A few of the party guests passed by. "Aren't you supposed to be talking to the or asking the women to dance or whatever it is you're supposed to do?"

Dick gave a barely noticeable shrug. "I try to be invisible at these things."

"But this is great, all these people and the music—could we dance?"

He'd been to so any of these affairs that he'd hit the point of preferring a root canal but Marilee's enthusiasm was fun to see. It made a nice change for the usuals who were too cool to be impressed by anything and were just using the evening as yet another tax write off. He pulled her gently to the main terrace where the string quartet was stationed and swung her into an expert waltz. They both saw a circle of guests, including Marilee's parents, standing around the edges, whispering, smiling and finally starting to join in.

Twenty minutes into the dancing the young couple decided to take a break, wandering back through the public rooms of the house, Dick stopping to greet the people he knew, introducing Marilee to Jim Gordon and the Trumps. Lois Lane who was covering the benefit as part of some charity series she was doing for the Planet and took several pictures of the two and asked a few softball questions. Finally, in the large dining room they looked over the silent auction items, everything from an African photo safari to a new computer to a pet gift basket (including doggie spa treatments). Marilee lingered over a pair of two carat, flawless diamond stud earrings donated by Harry Winston's CEO, one of Bruce's tennis partners.

"Do you like them?"

"Of course, they're beautiful." Dick wrote the figure five thousand dollars and his name on the sheet while Marilee stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. "Are you serious?"

"Why?" He looked amused.

"Your ears aren't pierced."

"'Yours are."

Her jaw dropped. "You're kidding."

He laughed, shaking his head. "It's okay."

She knew the rich were different but this was like their third date, this was nuts. "Seriously, you don't have to do this."

"Yeah, well actually I sort of do." He interrupted whatever she was about to say. "No, you don't get it. This is a fundraiser, Bruce is hosting the evening and he's sort of my father so I pretty much have to buy something. SOP."

"But…"

"Don't worry about it. Really."

"But won't Bruce be mad that you're spending all that money for someone you don't even know all that well?"

"Bruce won't care and he'd be a lot more upset if I didn't get the auction ball rolling."

"But…"

"C'mon, they want everyone to go in to dinner." He put his arm lightly around her waist and steered her into the ballroom, set up with thirty round tables of ten seats each. They were seated with some of Bruce's best friends at table seven, sharing the table with the conductor of the Gotham Symphony and his wife, the head of Bruce's legal department (and husband), Two of Bruce's ex model girlfriends who were actually okay people and the Ambassador from Japan. They all knew Dick, he knew everyone and did his hosting duties, making sure the conversation kept rolling and that everyone seemed to have a good time, despite several too long speeches during dessert.

Marilee touched Dick's hand and gestured over to table one, Bruce, the guest of honor, some people she didn't know and her parents. "How did that happen?"

He shrugged, "'No idea." Of course he knew what was happening; Bruce wanted to have a chance to observe, analyze, for and opinion and Dick would get the blow by blow later—or not.

The evening wore on, the live auction was well financed, raising another two hundred thousand dollars, the silent auction ended and the items paid for, dumping yet another eighty thousand into the fund. Together with the money from selling the tables and flat-out donations, the evening had raised almost two million dollars for Cancer Research. The evening was a success.

Dick presented Marilee with the earrings to her astonished delight, she immediately put them on, giving the CZ copies she was wearing to her mother to stow in her evening purse while Dick deflected any compliments. He again insisted that he had to get something and was happy that Marilee would have a nice souvenir of the evening.

The quartet continued their playing and a number of people moved back out to the terrace to finish out the evening with a few final dances, including Dick, Marilee and the Richards.

Inside the house but watching through the opened French doors, Bruce considered the scene, weighed his options and decided to simply let it play out.

***

Then there was the after party, such as it were.

Everyone, the caterers, the musicians, the committee and the guests were all out the door by one in the morning. Wayne Manor was clean, the dishes washed and packed away, the tables dismantled, the driveway cleared of cars and most of the lights turned off. If you didn't know that over two hundred people had been there a couple of hours before, you wouldn't know it.

"Dad, c'mon, please? Dick said he'd drive me home and if it gets too late then they have like twenty guestrooms. Please?"

"Really, Mr. Richards, it's no trouble at all; I really don't mind." Dick was in the foyer with the family, looking as earnest as a seventeen year old can look when talking to a set of parents. "We're just going for a swim and Bruce said something about joining us with Carolyn." The Richard's looked blank. "His date."

"That's kind of you but it's late, you're tired and there's no reason on earth why you two can't just get together for lunch or something tomorrow. Besides, you'll freeze."

"No I won't, the pool's heated and they have a Jacuzzi." Of course they did; this was Wayne Manor, f'God'ssake. Marilee went for the big guns. "Mom, please?"

Marykate too the easy road. "Dick, could we confirm this with your guardian? I think we'd both feel better."

"Sure."

A few minutes later Bruce was nodding his approval. "Of course, heaven knows we've plenty of room and you shouldn't worry about a thing. Goodness, with Alfred here she'll be as safe as bug in a rug. He never even let me part my hair wrong when I was Dick's age." An odd phrase, but it made his point.

"Really, Bob, I don't see any reason why she can't stay a little while longer. Bruce is here and that nice Alfred—and she's perfectly right, they have plenty of room in case Dick is too tired to bring her home. You know he's been raised to be a gentleman and I'm sure nothing will happen."

"Daddy?"

"Bathing suit?"

"We have spares, Mr. Richards."

His face seemed pained. Of course Bruce Wayne would have spare women's bathing suits available. "…Fine. But I want you to call if you're not coming home, do you understand? I don't care what time it is, I want a call—are you sure this is all right, Mr. Wayne?"

"Bruce, please, Bob and why not? It's not like anyone here bites or anything and we're all parents. She'll be fine, my word on that."

Admitting defeat and with Marykate barely managing to suppress that she was giddy with this turn of events, Bob thanked Bruce for having them, for the lovely evening and for being so kind to Marilee then escorted his wife home, minus their daughter.

What they were never told was that, while the two couples—Dick and Marilee and Bruce and the lovely Carolyn—did indeed, swim and hit the hot tub, Dick and Marilee were in the indoor facilities. However, Bruce and his paramour du jour were five hundred yards away in the outdoor pool.

What none of the four knew—well, all right, Dick knew because he was Robin—Alfred was quietly sipping his Earl Grey in the conservatory while the teenagers were relaxing in the hot water till almost three. With a frustrated sigh, Dick knew there was no choice but to make sure she was comfortable in the Rose guest room, two corridors away from his own room.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Google

**Google**

**Part Five**

The next morning, late, around ten-thirty, the older Richards were having breakfast, quietly talking about the previous evening's doings. "It was a lovely party, wasn't it—and the food, my lord, that must have made a dent in the budget."

Bob didn't look up from the paper. "I asked around; the food was all donated by the local King's Market and the wine was a gift from Wayne's vineyard. The caterer's worked at cost, plus tips for their staff, the valet parking people worked on some per/vehicle basis but at a reduced rate because the company owner lost his mother to cancer a few years ago. They did that thing about as cost efficiently as it was possible to do; almost all of the money went to the research fund."

"Really? How much did they raise, did you hear?"

"Somewhere around two million, all in all."

"That much? That's wonderful—What time did Marilee call?"

"'Around three. She said that she'd decided to just stay over like they were talking about." Bob glanced at his wife, holding out his empty cup for a refill. "She promised me that she'd be in a guestroom and Dick would be in his own bed—alone."

"He's a nice boy, isn't he?"

"'Seems to be. 'More so than I would have thought after everything we've heard over the years about Wayne's private life—and did you get a look at his 'date'? I' doubting she spent the night in a guestroom. I know we don't know him all that well yet, but how the hell did the kid turn out so normal and adjusted with that kind of role model and everything he's been through?"

Marykate sat back down after topping off her own coffee. "Be fair, we don't really know all that much about Bruce and he couldn't have been nicer last night." She reached down to scratch the cat's neck as he rubbed against her leg. "Besides, Dick only started living there a few years ago, he was raised by his real parents before that and from everything I've heard, they were happily married until they…died. 'Poor as church mice, but happy."

"Hmm."

"Bob? What did you think of the two kids together last night?"

"You mean her staying over? It was probably fine. That butler would scare anyone into good behavior."

"No, I mean the two of them as a couple. They seemed to be having a good time, didn't they?"

"She was wearing a dress that would have paid for a decent used car, the Grayson kid bought her a pair of Harry Winston diamond earrings and every photographer took her picture non-stop. Plus her date was the best looking male there, and I'm including both Wayne and me in that. If she didn't have a good time she should have her head examined." He turned the page, rustling the paper without bothering to remove his eyes from the article he was reading. "They're kids, Marykate, 'still in high school. Don't make more if it than it is."

"He did get her those, didn't he? That was really very sweet of him." She spooned some nutra-sweet into her cup. "When I tried to thank him he brushed me off—politely—and just said something about having to get an item to help the silent auction. He handled it really very well, I thought."

Bob gave her an even look. "'Nice he knows how to handle diamonds."

"I don't think even he would do that if he didn't really like Marilee, though. I mean, seriously; I know they're rich but they aren't stupid, or Dick certainly isn't. He could have bought anything there; he didn't have to do that. I think he was making a statement."

Bob sighed, tired of the subject. "Marykate, he's a seventeen year old boy and Marilee is a pretty seventeen girl. I think that speaks for itself, don't you?"

***

Over at Wayne Manor breakfast was also in progress. Alfred had insisted on the family dining room, seeing as how there were two guests present. Carolyn was in slacks and a light sweater she kept in her car (causing Dick to privately wonder how often she needed a morning after outfit). Marilee was wearing a pair of his outgrown jeans and a borrowed Brixton Academy tee shirt Alfred had placed on the foot of her bed while she was still sleeping. She was barefoot, declining her heels for comfort; her hair caught up in a casual ponytail.

"I'm not a big eater in the morning, just half a grapefruit, please and black coffee." Carolyn, of course. She probably had no idea that this was her last overnight—or anything else—with Bruce. She was starting to talk about how she loved kids and always wanted to live in the Gotham suburbs. It was her death knell, as she would likely find out before the weekend was out.

'They come, they go' drifted through Dick's mind, as it did at least half a dozen times a year and he knew the signs; Bruce was bored with her.

"Um, a cheese omelet, please? And could I maybe have some toast? And orange juice? Or anything you have would be fine—I don't want to be any trouble, Mr. Pennyworth." Marilee seemed overwhelmed by the Manor, day or night and Dick thought it was kind of cute. She was trying for cool but it made him think about his first few months there; clueless and afraid that he'd drop his silverware of break a glass. He smiled at her, trying to reassure her.

"Eggs sound good to me, too, Alfred, thanks." Dick was trying to get Marilee to relax. "Were your parents really all right with you staying over? Your dad seemed kind of afraid that the after party was going to be an orgy." He put his napkin in his lap. "Unless he was disappointed that they weren't invited."

"My parents? Yeah, right. They had a really good time last night, though, they both made a point of asking me to let Mr. Wayne know and wanted me to thank him again."

Bruce smiled at her as he slid into his chair, immaculately dressed, as usual. "No need at all, Marilee, it was my pleasure and I'm sure Dick had a better time last night than at any of the other things like that he's been blackmailed into attending. If any thanks are in order, I think my ward should address them to me for insisting that you and your parents were there, truth be told—and I was happy to have the chance to get to know them a little better, too. We'll have to have them over more often from now on."

Marilee tried not to stare, knowing the effect this comment would have when she got home later.

***

"What's that?" Bob walked in and looked over her shoulder at the monitor.

"Just doing some research." She was typing something into the search box of the Goggle home page.

"On what?" He read what she'd written: _"Bruce Wayne net worth"_

Clicking the first listed site she looked at Forbes richest people for last year. Bruce was listed at number three, just behind William Gates III and Warren Buffet. His total holdings were estimated at thirty-three billion dollars—after the market downturn. "I knew he was rich, I just didn't know _how_ rich. It says here that while eighty-three percent of the billionaires lost money last year, he's one of forty-four who gained. He's up almost four and a half percent because he cashed out a lot of holdings before the crash. Jesus."

"Four and a half percent of over thirty billion." Bob was subdued faced with the numbers. "And the market is starting to recover since this was published. No wonder he didn't bat an eye at Dick getting those earrings for Marilee."

"Yeah, y'think? Talk about petty cash."

"Speaking of which, when do we expect our daughter home from the other side of the tracks?"

"I'm not sure, this afternoon sometime. That dress is starting to look like a pretty good investment, don't you think?"

***

"_Ohmigod! _Tell me_ everything!"_

Marilee laughed at Annaclaire. They were sitting in the backyard on the old swing-set, catching up, gossiping about the game she'd missed while getting ready for the party yesterday (Ridge lost, of course) and were just cutting to the chase about the Gala.

"It was awesome, totally awesome. The house is enormous and completely amazing, the food was really good and they even let us drink champagne—but Dick had to make sure that Bruce didn't know 'cause he's a real stickler of stuff like that. Anyway, we danced—he's a really good dancer—and he bid on these…Ohmigod, I shouldn't even tell you, he might get mad."

"He bid on_ what—tell _me!"

"These charity things usually have stuff for sale at like an auction, to raise money and…" Marilee made a show of indecision before relenting. "There was this pair of earrings that Bruce got Harry Winston to donate as a tax write-off and Dick got them for me; they're _incredible_."

"_Show_ me."

The two girls went up to Marilee's room, Annaclaire sitting on the bed while Marilee pulled the small leather box from her top drawer. Inside the diamond studs were nestled on the velvet, a full carat each. Big enough to make a statement but not too big for her face or to be embarrassing. They were flawless, pure white round cuts set in a simple platinum five-prong setting. They were perfect.

"Ohmigod. They're incredible; did you have to put out?"

Marilee rolled her eyes. "He was a perfect gentleman."

"That sucks…Why?"

"Annaclaire! He's nice, he's a really nice guy, is why. Then after the party I stayed over and we all went swimming—Dick and me and Bruce and his date. Just the four of us but Bruce and Carolyn sort of disappeared after about half an hour and so…"

"And so…c'mon, and then…?"

"And then we hung out in the indoor Jacuzzi for a while, talking and stuff…"

"Stuff'?…The _indoor_ Jacuzzi?"

"Shut up. Then around three we went to bed." Annaclaire rolled her eyes and giggled.

"Seriously, shut up—he went to his room and I was in a guest room like in another wing of that museum and I didn't see him again till morning. We had a late breakfast and he drove me home and then I called you."

Anna continued to admire the earrings, trying one on and loving what she saw. "So…what are you going to tell Adam?" Her boyfriend for the last four years, her steady, the guy she was probably dropping for Grayson.

"Nothing."

"Marilee…you have to talk to him, he's really upset. Brian told me that he was practically crying after the game."

She just shrugged. It wasn't her fault that she'd moved on and he was still living like they were in seventh grade or something. He'd get over it, besides, Dick was really cute and nice and smart and had this amazing body and…he was _really_ nice.

"Marilee, you have to say something to him. 'Let him down easy, will you?"

"I'll talk to him, fine. I will, I see him for second period history on Monday. I'll talk to him then."

"Oh great—in school, with everyone listening and class about to start. That should go over big. Seriously, you have to at least be nice to him. I mean, c'mon, you two have been together since like seventh grade."

"Oh, fine, I'll call him later, all right?"

Annaclaire made a face. Adam was going to be really upset and Marilee didn't even seem to care and that wasn't like her; she must really be into this new guy.

***

Later that evening, as they were getting changed to hit the rooftops, Dick, as usual, was talking about whatever was on his mind. He mentioned that he'd finished that English essay, thought he'd nailed a calculus test and Marilee mentioned that her parents had put down seven or eight thousand dollars for one of the auction items, though he didn't remember which one. "Maybe you could sign the thank your note personally."

"That's what the committee is for."

"C'mon, Bruce, they'd appreciate it. That's actual money to people who aren't you." He was ready, mask in place.

Batman was pulling on his gloves. "…Are getting serious about this girl? Is that what this is about?"

"Serious, yeah—right. She's okay, I like her, I'm not going to marry her or anything. The note?"

"Fine, whatever; let's get going." As he drove the Batmobile through the city Bruce's thoughts were on the Richards. He knew Dick liked the girl more than he was letting on and she seemed sweet enough; pretty, intelligent and all of that; if a little unformed. He didn't have anything against her but the parents had raised a few questions when he was speaking with them last night. That dress, assuming it really was couture Vera was likely in five figures. The diamond necklace was probably borrowed from her mother or a grandmother but still, that was a large outlay for a family that, while comfortable, wasn't in the league to spend that much on a teenager's party dress unless they saw it as an investment purchase.

And investments were expected to yield dividends.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Google**

**Part Six**

The charity dinner seemed to open some kind of floodgates as far as Dick and Marilee were concerned. From then on they were as close to inseparable as was feasible for them to be. They lived in different towns, but they both drove and were only ten miles apart. She had her obligations with school and cheering and Dick had school, Batman and Robin and the Titans to deal with.

Despite all this, they managed to see one another at least two or three times a week. Movies, football games, walks, dinners here and there and a road trip to visit Dick's friend Roy who was doing some work in New York. Slowly, they became comfortable with one another, something the Richards did everything they could to foster—or rather Marykate did. Bob seemed to step back and, while always polite and seeming to genuinely like Dick, was disinclined to get involved as soon as he realized that he really was a nice kid and could be trusted as far as any teenaged boy could be with a teenaged girl.

Early one Saturday morning in December, Marilee was surprised and thrilled when her mother suggested that perhaps, if he didn't have any other plans, Dick could join them for their annual ski trip out to Utah.

"Ohmigod—are you serious? That would be amazing! He's a total black run skier and I know he boards, too—that would be awesome!"

Marykate laughed, happy to see Marilee so pleased both with Dick and the idea of going away with him, including him as part of a family tradition. "Well, call him sweetie—see if Bruce will let him go so we can book tickets." She used the kitchen phone, the Manor's number memorized weeks ago.

"Hey, that would be great, we were going to his place in Aspen but there's this merger he has to deal with so it's off—let me ask Bruce, okay? Can you hold on?"

"Of course—go!" There was silence for a couple of minutes while Dick went to whatever room Bruce was in to ask him.

Finally, "He said it's okay with him he just wants to know when and where we're going and all that stuff. God, this is going to be great—I haven't been able to just cut loose on a decent slope since last year. This is incredibly nice of your parents, Mare—I'll thank them when I see them, but tell them for me, okay?"

"I will—hey if Bruce is there just put him on and my Mom can give him the details."

"Just a minute, I'll transfer you over to the study." He pushed buttons while she handed her mother the phone.

"Mrs. Richards? I understand that you've invited Dick on a vacation? That's incredibly kind of you; may I ask where and when you're going?"

"We're planning a trip to Deer Valley over the holidays, during the kid's break and will be there nine days, the whole week and then part of both weekends, if that's all right with you, of course."

"Do you own a place out there or are you…"

"No, we'll be staying in a hotel. Normally we just get two rooms but with Dick along we'll get a suite instead and sort out the arrangements when we get there but Bob and I will keep an eye on the kids."

"I'm sure you will, yes…if I may, I don't want to intrude but would you mind using my jet? It would save you plane fares and would make your travel arrangements a little easier. We always have Christmas morning together but if you'd be willing to leave, say around lunchtime—would that work for you?"

Marykate was close to speechless. His plane? His private jet? Sure, no problem, much more convenient, thank you very much, why on earth didn't she think of it? Someone was talking in the background and a moment later Bruce came back on the line. "Dick just suggested—and I agree— that, if you'd like, you're all welcome to use my place in Colorado; it's just sitting empty. Of course, if you'd rather go with your own plans I understand completely…"

Beside herself with excitement, Marykate assured Bruce that Bob wouldn't mind the change and the plans were made; the Richards and Dick would go out to Bruce's Aspen chalet but insisted on paying their share for the use of the plane, much to Bruce's private amusement.

The trip was, no surprise, a complete success and on the flight home, with both Dick and Marilee napping after a final late night on the town. Marykate leaned across the table and, speaking low so as to not disturb the kids, whispered "I'll never forget this trip—never."

"Don't get too used to it, babe, Wayne only did this as a favor to Dick; this isn't going to turn into an annual jaunt."

"I know, I know. It was still pretty nice, though." Glancing towards the back of the plane she watched the kids sleeping, Marilee snuggled against Dick and his arm around her shoulder. 'But I'd love if it became a way of life for Marilee, though.'

***

A few weeks after the ski trip Marilee and Dick were on the phone, just as they were almost every evening.

"But I thought that we were set for tomorrow night; we were going to double with Annaclaire and Brian for dinner and a movie."

"I know but something came up and Bruce wants me to do a thing with his work, some meet and greet. He just sprung it on me a few minutes ago." In fact Batman and Robin were going to stakeout at Harry Winston's after a lead came in about a possible break in.

"But…"

"I know, I'm sorry, but there's no way I can get out of it. We'll do it some other time—you go, okay? 'No reason for you to sit home because I can't make it."

"It won't be the same."

"It'll be fine."

***

"Master Bruce, Mrs. Richards called this afternoon, asking if you and Master Dick would be good enough to join them for dinner next weekend. I believe that they'd like to thank you yet again for the loan of the Aspen home and your plane to get there."

Bruce knew that something like this would be coming sooner or later and here it was; the Richard's woman was trying to suck up to him again and cement the relationship between the two families. "Please send my regrets, if you would. I'll be in Paris next weekend."

"As you wish, sir, but I point out that she'll simply ask what date you might be available to reschedule. What should I tell her?"

He sighed. "I know. Tell her that…tell her that I'll have to check and will call her about it."

***

Mid-February the Richards always made the trip to Florida to visit Marykate's mother down in St. Pete for her birthday, soak up some sun and enjoy the warmth away from the Northeast's frigid winter. Marykate and Bob were out doing some shopping leaving Marilee and Gram to their own devices. They opted to take advantage of the perfect weather to stroll on the beach, kicking along the sand, looking for shells and talking, catching up.

"So you're a senior, missy—do you know yet where you'll be next year? Any college choices?"

"I have to wait for acceptances but so far it looks like maybe Radcliffe as my first choice and Boston U as back up. I'm not completely sure, though; we'll see."

"Your dad says you're looking at pre-law."

"He's excited about it and I think it sounds interesting."

"You don't sound like you're all that interested." Gram turned to look at her, stopping along a driftwood log. She took a seat, facing the Gulf of Mexico a few yards away. "Your mother thinks you're going to marry this young man you've been seeing, that true?"

"Ohmigod—did she say that?"

Gram nodded, "I know you probably don't want to hear this but you're too young for that—you both are if he's anywhere near your age."

"Well, God—I know _that_! My mother is insane."

"No plans to elope?"

"Gram—_no!_ God. What has she been saying?"

"Just what it sounds like—that you and this boy are all hot and heavy and will be running off any minute now. I'm glad to hear you have more sense than that—you do, don't you? You're not just saying what an old lady wants to here, are you?"

Marilee shook her head in disbelief. "I swear to God that I'm jot eloping with Dick or anyone else in the foreseeable future. We've never talked about it, he hasn't proposed, he hasn't told me he loves me, I haven't told him and no one is picking out drapes or paint swatches. There is no ring on this finger." She held up her bare hand. "And I'm not pregnant, either, nor do I have any plans on becoming so any time soon. Happy?"

"That will do for now, yes thank you."

"I swear, I'm going to kill my mother."

Gram watched a seagull floating above the surf. "Why is she so intent on this particular boy?"

"Because he has a lot of money; or his guardian does, anyway. You know mom—'It's just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor one.'"

"That sounds like her, all right. You're too young."

"I know, don't worry about it."

"How rich?"

"Very."

"It's stupid not to consider that, you know, just don't base a decision on it."

Marilee really wished this conversation wasn't happening; it was obnoxious. She was seventeen, f'God'ssake. "No one's getting married." And she was really pissed at her mother.

***

At Wayne Manor Alfred was bemused by the lack of change in the young master's demeanor while his young lady was away. Perhaps it was just that he was taking Master Bruce's lack of overt emotion as a guide, perhaps he was simply busy and preoccupied with his various responsibilities and perhaps he simply didn't miss the girl as much as she seemed to miss him. Judging by the amount of time his private phone had rung this week she was calling almost every day. The calls, however, didn't seem to last more than a few minutes.

Dick hadn't said anything other than that Marilee would be home late Sunday from visiting her grandmother and hadn't, in any way, indicated that he was lonely or missing her. Hopefully, he had the good sense to not let on to the girl or her friends, one of whom, an Annaclaire, seemed to have the chore of 'looking after' him.

Without meaning to eavesdrop, he's heard Dick tell the friend, Anna, that he was fine and there was no need for her to drive over to make sure for herself. No, he wasn't seeing anyone else, he wasn't cheating; he was just busy with midterms and he'd see her when they all went out in a couple of weeks.

The next afternoon Dick wandered into the kitchen when he got back from school as he always did to let Alfred know he was home. The cookies were fresh from the oven and the milk cold so he slung his backpack onto the floor and pulled a chair out from the table so he could eat.

After some small talk Alfred cut to what he and Bruce were actually concerned about. "Everything all right so far as your tests, Master Dick?"

"Yes, sure. No problem. And the Titans are fine, that embezzlement case is pretty much wrapped up and my sprained wrist is healing—anything else, Alf?" Dick laughed while said all this, knowing Alfred would worry about him, no matter how old he was. He handled it, like he seemed to handle everything, easily.

"Very funny. But, I can't help but wondering if you've made a final choice regarding a university or not, time is quickly passing and you've received seven acceptance letters." He and Bruce were concerned that Dick or Marilee would base their decision where the other was going, rather than on their own needs and desires.

"Not yet, I'm leaning towards Hudson, though—we'll see. I have two more weeks before I have to let them all know."

"Has Miss Marilee decided yet?"

"I think so, she said something about Radcliffe and how much she liked the place. I think her mother went there or something, so she's a legacy. 'Shouldn't have any trouble getting in."

Good. New Carthage was a good three-hour drive from Cambridge. Whilst distance may make the heart grow fonder, it can also break up teenaged couples, especially when they were each surrounded by thousands of other young people on a daily basis.

He and the Master had nothing whatsoever against Marilee who seemed like a pleasant and intelligent enough young lady, however, seventeen was young and Master Dick had far too many things in his life to his far too overscheduled existence.

An hour later with Dick upstairs studying, Alfred found Bruce in his study. "Yes?"

"I though you might like to know that I spoke to Master Dick this afternoon. I strongly suspect that the situation will resolve itself in fairly short order. The young lady seems to have decided on Radcliffe."

Bruce gave a curt nod. "Thank you." Alfred silent withdrew and Bruce revolved his chair so that he could look out the glass French doors to the garden, just starting to bloom. It was for the best, really. He certainly had nothing against Dick having some fun with the girl but her family was impossible and the mother—Bruce had enough experience with gold digging to be able to smell it from a distance.

One of these days, in a few years—maybe ten or fifteen—Dick would be ready to settle down with a wife and all the rest. Not now and not this girl.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Google**

**Part Seven**

Alfred pushed Dick's door open, surprised to find the boy sitting at his desk, computer on and clearly engrossed in something. He carried the laundry basket into the large walk in closet, put things away and was about to let himself out when he paused by the side of the desk. After a moment Dick looked up, plainly hiding some annoyance at being disturbed.

"Sorry to interrupt, but do you have plans for the evening or should I plan on you for dinner?"

"Bruce said something about needing me starting about four so probably not." He turned back to the monitor, dismissing the old man.

"Is everything set for the various matriculation celebrations in a few weeks?"

"Hmmm?…Oh. I guess so. Why do you ask?"

"If we're expecting a large percentage of your classmates, parents and assorted hangers on for the graduation dance, I'd like to be certain that there are no unexpected flies in that particular ointment."

"It's all good, Alf, don't worry about it. The PTA is doing most of it and it's being paid for by class dues. All you have to do is open the door when they get here for the setup."

"That's reassuring, thank you…I'll leave you to it, then." On the way out he caught sight of a snapshot tucked in the mirror frame over a bureau. It was of Dick's young lady, Marilee. She was sitting on a back yard child's swing set, laughing and wearing summer clothes, a sleeveless tank top and shorts. She seemed very happy. And she was a very pretty young lady, though no more so than a hundred others who had been through the Manor over the years. He sincerely hoped that the young master wasn't going down the same emotionally empty road Master Bruce had embraced; it would be so—wrong. Dick needed people; he needed closeness and affection to feel complete and cared deeply about the people who managed to touch him.

This girl seemed to be important to him and Alfred regretted what was likely about to happen. It just seemed like such a waste and he could only hope that Dick would rise above it, as he had so many other things over the years.

And this dance the master had agreed to, normally the school rented a country club or some such for the big dance but this year it was decided that Wayne Manor would be given the honor in an unexpected cost saving attempt. The use of the house and grounds was, of course, donated without charge. A class father who happened to own the most chic catering establishment in the area gave the food, someone knew someone with a band and another was owed a favor by a local photographer.

Over three hundred people were expected and while this was hardly the largest affair they'd hosted, it was still quite a bit of work for everyone involved, despite Dick's assurances. While the financial savings would likely be considerable, the cost in aggravation may well prove to be exorbitant.

But surprisingly, Master Bruce seemed happy about the massive party, excited that he was able to do this for Dick, let him show off a little instead of hiding under a bushel the way he'd had to as Dick Grayson since Robin was born. This would be the exception to the tightly controlled rules in their lives.

***

Adam came up behind Marilee and Annaclaire in 'Ridge High's cafeteria. Marilee had officially broken up with him not long after Christmas, even though it was pretty damn obvious for a long time before she put the nails in the coffin. It's not like everyone didn't know she'd practically thrown that rich kid from Brixton over the hood of his fancy car and had at him then and there. Embarrassing? Oh yeah. It's not like Adam was chopped liver, right? Captain of the football team, good student, one of the class gods who turned heads whenever he walked down the halls and _she_ dumped _him_? _Excuse_ me?

"So, you're going to the senior trip after graduation, right?" The kids from Ridgefield were planning an overnight at someone's shore house as soon as the graduation ceremony was over. It was tradition, everyone went. No one bailed on it.

Marilee knew he was just trying to bait her again. He'd been doing it ever since she'd finally told him the obvious, that she was dating Dick and, while she still liked Adam, she _liked_ Dick. "'Can't make it, I have other plans."

"You're going to the Brixton dance, right? I figured." He shook his head, as if he pitied her. "You know, that sucks, Mari—you never used to give a rat's ass about all that crap—money, fancy cars and all that. You've become…hell, you know what you've become?"

Oh, f'God'ssake. "What's that, Adam?"

"Available to the highest bidder. Have a good time; 'seeya."

Prick.

***

"I swear, I was ready to smack him and no one would have said anything—he was _horrible!_"

"'It'll be okay, Mare, after graduation you'll probably never see him again, let it go."

"Oh, spare me your Zen, Dick—he was _awful_! Can you come over—I'd really like to see you. Please?"

Dick sighed. Yes, her ex was a jerk but he was history and—seriously—lighten up. "I have to do a thing with Bruce in a couple of minutes but I'll see if I can get there tomorrow say, after school? Around three?

"Could you do your whatever with Bruce tomorrow? Please? I'm_ really _upset about this."

"I know but…look, I'm sorry but I can't. Tomorrow, Mare. I promise. You'll be fine. Why don't you call Anna? She knows you both and she'll know what's going on with him; I bet he's just upset at getting dumped and misses you."

"I guess, but he was just so obnoxious." There was a lull on the line while each waited for the other to budge and change their minds—that Dick would ditch Bruce and hop in his car or that Marilee would drop the whole stupid and unimportant argument she'd had. Neither moved an inch.

"…Do you want to get dinner Saturday? Maybe try that new Chinese place? 'Catch a movie?"

"You're changing the subject, aren't you?"

"I'm trying. Is it working?"

Oh, the hell with it—at least she had Dick and he usually wasn't a jerk, besides, nothing to be gained by pouting, "Yes. Saturday would be good and—oh crap, I forgot, I have a meeting tomorrow after school but it should be over around four so why don't you just swing by the school and I'll meet you out front?"

"'Four out front. Okay, I'll see you then."

***

The next evening as Marykate was working on dinner Marilee passed through the kitchen on her way to drop some stuff in the laundry room.

"We're leaving in about twenty minutes." They were going to a meeting of the graduation dance planning committee.

"Okay."

"Sweetie, how are you and Dick getting along, everything all right?"

"Yeah, sure. He's great."

"…Do I hear a 'but'?"

"He's always so busy but I haven't really figured out what it is he's so busy doing. I mean, I know he has school but that's about done with and I know that Bruce makes him do a lot of stuff with his company and do a lot of social things—which he hates and it's not like it's every day or anything. He doesn't seem to have any friends—he never mentions any and I've never met any, he doesn't compete in any sports, he doesn't seem to really have any real hobbies and…I don't know, Maybe he's two-timing me or is getting bored with me or something."

"I doubt that, honey. I think he's just busy, like you said. I'm sure that's all it is." She put the roast in the oven. "And maybe he just likes to be alone to read or whatever. He certainly pays you enough attention when you're together, sweetie."

"Maybe…"

"You know, I was thinking; you could wear your Vera dress again at that big dance they're having."

"I guess—sure." She picked up the car keys. "I just wish he'd tell me what he does all the time when he's so busy."

***

Marykate couldn't sleep. The thing between Marilee and Dick seemed to be on autopilot and that wasn't good for a couple of hormone laden teenagers. Maybe the relationship had run it's course, maybe they were going through an adjustment after the 'honeymoon' period. Maybe they just both had things on their respective minds with summer coming up and then both off to college. But when they'd all been skiing Dick couldn't have been more attentive; of course, that was five months ago, but still…

Was it possible that he'd been listening to Bruce too much? Heaven knew Wayne wasn't what anyone would call a 'stay at home, one woman man type' and if that was what Dick had been raised with, well, he could have absorbed that lesson a little too well.

Or maybe he really was just busy interning at Wayne Corp to get his feet on the ladder.

Or he might have gotten tired of Marilee, except last weekend Bob had walked in on them watching some movie in the den and he'd practically had to throw a bucket of cold water on the two of them.

Maybe he was just busy.

Oh, dammit—she was going to the stupid dance as a chaperone and she could see for herself how the thing went. If Dick had decided to move on, maybe she could do something to fan the flames and if he really was just busy, well, maybe she could think of a reason for the poor boy to relax with them when they went out to Martha's Vineyard in July.

This wasn't over, not by a long shot; not if she had anything to say about it.

***

Dick walked through the large white tent set up on the lower lawn, the chairs set up by the pool with piles of towels ready to be grabbed, the tables with soft drinks and glasses ready for the students to make their entrances. The party rental people had set up the marquee, set up the tables. The caterer was starting the prep work for the late diner and even later breakfast that would follow, the band was getting it's equipment ready for the sound check. Hundred and hundreds of balloons were inflated and in place along with the flowers, lighting and other decorations, all in Brixton Academy blue and gold.

Wayne Manor hosted at least a half dozen large parties a year; this was just another day at the office around here.

"Thanks for letting us do this, Bruce."

"My pleasure. 'You about ready to get to the school?"

"Um-hmm."

"When is Marilee getting here?"

"I'm picking her up when her own ceremony is over. It's at three for some reason so I'll bring her over and she can change upstairs then we'll all go over to my graduation then just come back together."

Bruce scanned the expansive lawn, the hubbub of the party arrangements and the many workers doing their various jobs. "Are you two still solid?"

"For now, I guess, sure. I don't know what's going to happen in September, though; we'll see." Dick went back inside to get his shoes on while Bruce quietly smiled to himself.

***

"Bob, are you coming or aren't you?"

"Marykate, you know I told you that I wouldn't be there last week and I told you again last night, now, please…" Marilee's graduation ceremony was over, she'd made them proud and was finished with her obligations to 'Ridge. Her friends had already left for the shore and she was over at Wayne's place so she could get ready without bother Dick for a ride or having to drive herself. "And could you explain to me why she couldn't just ride over there with you instead of taking two cars?"

"She wanted to spend some time with Dick before the crowd arrived." She had thought he wasn't serious, how could he miss this? It was a rite of passage, their daughter's graduation party, one of the last things she'd be doing as a 'child' before she left for college and he was being flat out pig headed about it, as usual.

"Mary, please. You know you're just going to keep an eye on those two and you also know that there will be plenty of people there and there's no reason to worry. Bruce Wayne will be there, f'God'ssake. Just relax, will you? Sit down, read a book, watch a movie or have a drink and _leave them alone_."

"I can't believe you, I really can't. You just don't understand, you don't care; you just don't."

He turned back to his newspaper, wondering if she had any plans to really cement things between the kids and thinking there wasn't much he'd put past her. Part of him suspected that if their daughter turned up pregnant this summer Marykate would start knitting booties the second after she made sure the trip to the Justice of the Peace was arranged for. He shook his head to himself; this wasn't what he wanted to Mari and never had been what her mother wanted, either. Sure, Dick was a nice kid, smart and all of that but rich wasn't the be all and end all of everything and he didn't understand why his wife was so obsessed with the whole thing.

It just wasn't right.

***

The students started arriving at nine for the party, dressed in a mix of tuxes, sports jackets, gowns and a goodly number in jeans and tees.

Marilee had almost cried when she came out of the guest bedroom to find Dick in an old and comfortable pair of jeans and a class tee with the names of every kid in the class printed on the back. Overdressed and embarrassed by her formal, she immediately washed off her makeup, took down her hair and downgraded to the cut-offs and halter she'd worn for her ride to the Manor.

"Hey, don't worry about it, you look great in anything and no one cares—they really don't. This is supposed to just be fun; it's the mothers who insisted on the tent and all that bull. C'mon, let's take a tour before it gets to crowded and trashed."

She managed a smile, relieved that he didn't laugh at her or anything. She kissed his cheek, slid her arms around him and moved to his mouth and likely would have maneuvered the two of them into the guestroom if Alfred, his radar pinging, hadn't walked down the hall at just that moment.

Within an hour the party was in full swing.

The atmosphere was relaxed, happy, informal and helped by the fact that the lighting was perfect, as was the weather, the food ad non-alcoholic drinks were plentiful and the band was good. A good number of the parents and chaperones had been to the Manor before, or at least seen pictures of it in the society pages or Architectural Digest, but they still gaped when faced with the real thing all dressed up for a good time.

Appetizers were followed by dancing till about midnight when the band took a break, the diner buffet came out for an hour and was followed by a hundred kids or so changing into bathing suits—or not— and hitting the outdoor pool, including Dick and Marilee.

Splashing, chicken fights, races and a few kids hanging on the sides talking, the chaperones keeping as close a watch as they could. There were over five hundred mostly darkened acres available but they seemed to have things under control with the expected couple of kids quietly busted for beer and some pot. The plus was that there were no neighbors within any possible earshot to complain about the excessive noise, a good thing when the illegal fireworks started. The band, having fulfilled it's contract, left to be replaced by a state of the art sound system hooked up to a rented juke box.

By three in the morning Alfred was going through the premises distributing blankets and pillows for the kids who lacked stamina and were curled up on couches, lounge chairs and the lawn.

By four a number of the students had faded and gone home, signing themselves out and there were just a few clumps of students around the two fire pits softly talking, cuddling with respective paramours and savoring the day. The cleaning crews tried not to disturb while they made their way through the area picking up glasses, plates, wet towels and general rubble as they set things back to order.

At seven the catering crew was setting up the breakfast buffet, omelets made to order, pancakes, bagels, fresh fruit and juices along with tea and coffee and kept food coming until nine.

"Mr. Wayne? Thank you so much—that was awesome, totally awesome. Maybe we could come back and do this again next year?"

"…"

"Or maybe not, okay."

"Dick, dude, amazing party, I owe you, man, we all do—talk about the other half."

"'S'okay, Steve, any time."

"Yeah, like tell Jeeves that."

"…Alfred. His name is Alfred."

"Yeah, whatever. 'Scares the shit outta me."

They were standing in the main driveway by the front steps, seeing people off, Bruce surrounded by a group of the chaperones and the kids mostly thanking Dick as they found their cars and went home to sleep.

The party was a success.

Marykate finally found her daughter asleep in the guest room she'd used before, her Vera Wang, unused, neatly hanging on the back of a closet door. Gently touching her shoulder, she gave her a hug, "Sweetheart? Time to go home honey. Time to get up."

Marilee groggily complied, half falling out of the bed. Marykate pulled the covers up to semi-make the bed, assuming it would be stripped and the linens washed then paused, frowning at a lump under the spread and reached in to see what was there. Pulling out the tee shirt Dick had been wearing during the party, she hid a smile.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**Google**

**Part Eight**

**Conclusion  
**

The graduations behind them, Dick and Marilee moved through the rest of the summer. She had a job at the mall to supplement her allowance and help pay for some of her dorm room decorating expenses. As far as she could tell, Dick seemed to be nothing other than loafing around the pool and watching movies when he wasn't playing video games.

It was making Marilee crazy, especially when she'd want to get together and he'd apologize, saying he was too busy, too tired or Bruce wanted him for some society/Wayne Corp thing and he couldn't get out of it.

"Mom, he's just so damn lazy—I mean seriously. He doesn't do _anything_!"

"Now honey, be fair. He's still very nice to you and he's worked hard all through his senior year. He deserves some down time."

"Two straight months? He doesn't get out of bed until almost noon, he sits around, and he works out. That's it. Nothing else. He's become so boring I can't stand it!"

"And didn't he send you three dozen roses and that pearl necklace for your birthday?"

"Which he was too busy to show for up for in person."

"Give him some time, sweetheart. He's a lovely young man and you two were so happy all year. Maybe he's just going through a phase."

"Maybe." Marilee didn't sound either convinced or happy. "I'll give him two more weeks, that's it."

In fact, of course, Dick—or rather Robin—was busy working on cases with Batman. There was that huge drug cartel they'd brought down, a counterfeiting ring they'd stopped before the market could be flooded with bad bills and three cases he'd lead the Titans on that took them from New York to Australia and then to Scotland. Plus, he also was getting ready for his move to New Carthage and Hudson in a few weeks. And he'd missed her birthday because he was off-world for a few days with the JLA, telling her he was getting in some off-season skiing in South America.

***

Bob Richards had been watching the relationship between his daughter and Dick Grayson go through different stages during the last few months and it looked pretty clear to him that they were coming up to the homestretch and the final inning.

High school romances, they just didn't always stick. He made the mistake of saying something along those lines to his wife one afternoon while they were doing some yard work.

"It's not over and it's not close to being over—how can you say something like that? I saw the two of them at that big party he had for his class and they were as thick as thieves the whole time. In fact…" She stopped herself, covering by reaching for another shovel full of mulch.

"In fact, what?"

"In fact nothing. They were just very sweet with one another, that's all."

"Marykate…"

"Oh, all right, I found his shirt in her bed the next morning, if you must know."

"And I'm just finding out about this now?" She didn't say anything "I assume that she wasn't using it as a nightgown…didn't you tell me that they _weren't_ sleeping together?" No answer. "Does Wayne know?"

"I didn't tell him, if that's what you're asking. Why, are you thinking of driving over for a father to father chat, take your shotgun while you're at it?"

"I think he should know at the least."

"And you think someone like Bruce will care if his son is getting some? He'll probably break out the champagne."

Bob refrained from a retort, putting the rake down and going into the house.

She called after him, "Bob, for God's sake, don't make him angry."

A few minutes later Marykate heard his car pull out.

He'd called Wayne to be sure the man was home, concerned and though he wasn't surprised with the news, he wasn't all that happy, either. Twenty minutes later Bob was sitting in the Solarium, being handed a perfect glass of iced tea by that butler/major domo character and waiting for the man to leave so he could say what he wanted to and clear the air, set things straight.

"Bob—may I call you Bob? I understand you're upset about the kids, but, really, I can't think that you're really all that surprised." Wayne was relaxed, clam and unconcerned.

"Did you know?"

"I've never discussed this with Dick and he never brought it up with me but I certainly didn't rule it out. I don't mean to sound glib, but they're both normal young adults—it's not unexpected."

"No, I'm not surprised, but as a father, I'm sure you can understand that—technically—we're looking at rape here. My daughter only turned eighteen two weeks ago and, assuming that they were intimate during the winter and spring—which is likely—your son could well be in some very serious trouble."

"Dick was also technically a minor until this spring." He saw Wayne's eyes go hard, almost like a mask was removed and his real character were hiding underneath; it was remarkable and a little intimidating in such a vapid individual. Somehow, his voice remained mild, "I don't think there's any need for that kind of unpleasantness, Bob. 'No need to drag the kids through something like that. As far as I know, no one has been really harmed here, have they? We're talking about two young people who seem to genuinely enjoy one another's company, have a reasonably solid relationship and are more than capable of making their own decisions." He didn't quite shrug dismissively. "I really don't think that anything would be gained by that." His smile was sincere, or seemed to be. "No one wants to hurt the kids; why don't we talk to them—privately—and see what they have to say? For all we know there's no problem at all, I mean, I know I've never walked in on them, nor has anyone in this house so far as I know." He stood. "There's no proof, really, is there? Maybe nothing like that's going on, after all."

"I'd say that's unlikely but, fine; I don't want Marilee upset any more than necessary and all right, I know this isn't unexpected. But she's my daughter and I have to say that if she's been harmed in any way, if that boy has…well, I won't let it slide, do we understand one another?"

"I think so. If you'll excuse me for a few minutes, I'll talk to Dick now, see what he has to say for himself."

He nodded, pulling out his cell phone, "And Marykate can talk to Marilee."

***

Bruce found Dick down in the gym going through his parallel routine. "'Have a minute?"

Dick hopped down, grabbed a towel and walked over to the edge of the mats.

"'Sup?"

"Bob Richards is upstairs, upset. Have you been sleeping with Marilee and, if so, how long?"

Dick stared at him for a long moment while realization dawned and he nodded in answer to Bruce's question. "Since that ski trip they invited me on over the holidays. He's talking rape? Crap." He tossed the towel on a chair. "We were careful; she's not pregnant and we're both clean, I swear. And you have to know I never forced…I wouldn't ever."

"Good."

"Dick, I want to ask—do you think that you're in love with this girl?"

He hesitated, looked at his feet for a moment and then shook his head. "I do _like_ her, I do but I'm not…you know. I—no." He raised his head. "Are you mad at me?"

Bruce didn't quite smile. "No. It would be nice if you were but I don't believe that you used her any more than she used you. You were careful, right?" Dick nodded. "You didn't lie to her or promise anything you weren't going to come through with?" A head shake. "Then, no, I'm not mad at you."

"You think he's going to try blackmail or is he just being a protective father?"

"'Protective father would be my guess."

"Crap—you want me to come upstairs and talk with him?"

"'Probably wouldn't hurt. Put a shirt on, first; I don't think that's the statement you want to make right now."

***

Back up in Solarium Bob was still on his phone, talking quietly. Dick and Bruce waited on the other side of the room to give him privacy until he snapped the phone closed and turned around, speaking without preamble. "Marilee insists that it was completely consensual, is that true?"

"Yes, sir. Like I told Bruce, I wouldn't ever, I just, I wouldn't." Dick was subdued, respectful. "I'd never hurt her, and we were always safe—we were always careful."

"Do you two think that this relationship will continue when you're both away at school? You'll only be seeing one another on holidays, do you think it will survive that?"

"I don't know. We've talked about it a little and—I don't know."

Obviously it wouldn't and both fathers knew it, even if the kids didn't. Bruce, though, suspected Dick might even have planned to let her down easy by letting the separation do the work for him.

"When do you leave for Hudson?"

"Two weeks; I have to report for orientation on the twenty-third."

Bob nodded once. Fine, that would probably be the end of this aside from a few letters and phone calls while they sorted things out between themselves. "All right, then we'll leave it at that. Bruce, Dick, thank you for clearing the air about this, I appreciate it."

"Is it okay with you if we still see each other?" Dick was nothing if not polite.

"Yes, but I'd prefer if you'd keep close to home, both you and Marilee. I assume you know what I'm talking about here."

Dick nodded; Bruce walked the man out. Dick, watching from the living room widows, saw them shake hands as Bob got into his car. The sound of the car door shutting seemed some kind of metaphor for closing the book or slamming the lid on this little segment of his life. He was supposed to pick Marilee up for dinner in a couple of hours and he saw no reason to cancel. He'd be leaving in two weeks, no reason not to play out the season, as they say.

He liked Marilee but he wasn't any more in love with her than she was with him and they both admitted it, if not to each other. She'd made a concerted effort to 'get' him last fall and he'd gone along with it even after she'd told him exactly how she'd singled him out, he had no hard feelings about her premeditation in their friendship.

And, living with Bruce, it wasn't like he hadn't seen it before.

***

The end of the summer went pretty smoothly, The kids made a point of staying visible and not going off together, at least not that Marilee's parents noticed. If they said they were going to a movie and never made it to the theater, well, it happens. Dick did his best to give Marilee as much time as he could but it wasn't all that easy between Bruce's demands on him, the Titans and getting organized for school. He made a trip up to New Carthage to find an off campus room to rent so he wouldn't have to deal with security problems in a crowded dorm and had to find things to furnish the place with and set up.

Marilee spent a long weekend at the shore with her cheerleading friends, Annaclaire pumping her for all and every detail about Dick and his 'talents', both of them giggling as they compared notes about their respective beaus.

By late August both Dick and Marilee were away, trying to get settled into their new schools. Just as predicted, they wrote, e-mailed and phoned each other with less and less frequency as the first semester passed, both saying how busy they were with their classes but promising to see one anther as soon as they both got home for Thanksgiving.

Mari told him how disappointed she was to find Radcliffe had no cheer squad, he told her that he wasn't sure that college was right for him—or maybe he wasn't right for it. She mentioned a few of her new friends—all female, though Dick doubted that. He didn't tell her that his Robin responsibilities were making finishing his class assignments almost impossible.

Finally Dick drove over to her house after dinner the night before the holiday. He shook hands with Bob and kissed Marykate on the cheek, made small talk for a few minutes and then the two young people went into the den to pretend to watch a video.

Half way through they both accepted that the spark was gone, or maybe it never really was there beyond the pull of hormones.

"You're sure? We could—I'm dropping out I'm going to tell Bruce before I leave to go back to Hudson. I figured that I'll finish out the semester and then withdraw. I'll have more time. Maybe we could, you know, try to…"

She didn't quite meet his eyes. "I've sort of met someone."

No surprise. "You're sure you don't want to, you know, give it another shot?"

"You're nice, Dick, you really are and I'd rather die than hurt your feelings but I'm sorry—I like you a lot but it makes me crazy that you never _do_ anything."

"Excuse me?"

"You just don't have any ambition to do anything besides have fun and this whole dropping out thing just proves it. For the first time you have to actually work and instead you just quit. I can't do that and it's too hard t watch you keep doing the same thing over and over."

Cripes, talk about the _last_ thing he'd expected. "But, I do a lot. I do all kinds of…"

"Dick, God—last summer all you did was play video games and hang around the pool. I mean did you even pick up a _single_ book? It made me insane."

"But I did…"

"No, Dick, you didn't and I can't take it anymore. I still _like_ you, we're still friends but that's all it is from now on."

Slightly stunned, he made his goodnights, chastely kissing her on the cheek before leaving. Walking into the cave earlier than he was expected he saw Bruce walking on the main computer.

"You're not gonna believe what just happened. You're just not." He sat down and took a bite of Bruce's sandwich. "You're not."

***

A week later Marykate read through the Radcliffe freshman directory then hit her computer, bringing up Google to do a few searches.

5/20/09

55


End file.
